


the next generation

by midnightkey, pickleproblem18



Series: the next generation [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Next Generation, SHIELD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-16 21:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightkey/pseuds/midnightkey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleproblem18/pseuds/pickleproblem18
Summary: In which the next generation of Avengers is chosen to continue what their parents did. It's a long road, to be sure—but no one ever said it would be easy to get a group of super-powered teens to work together, let alone get along.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally created by me and my friends [Morgan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleproblem18) , [Alicia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vermiliongoddess), and [Gaia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CARTI29)! We started this whole thing about a year ago, and it was originally posted on Wattpad. The original version can be found [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/165284095-the-next-generation-book-one). 
> 
> Just a heads up, the version being posted here is going to be somewhat different than the one on Wattpad. This is because I’m editing it as I cross-post the story to AO3, since originally, we just posted the chapters right after they were done. 
> 
> Hopefully, you guys love it as much we do!

**ALMARIA STARK**

When I was nine, I accidentally gave myself mind-reading powers in, you guessed it, a lab accident. Like any other nine-year-old kid would do, I didn't tell my parents what happened out of fear that they would get angry at me for being so careless. It wasn't until I heard my dad curse without actually opening his mouth, though, that I even realized I had powers. 

My powers were, of course, kept a secret between the three of us, as neither of my parents wanted me to become some experiment. I went through school having to hear every single one of my classmates' thoughts. During tests, I always asked to be put in another room. I could have cheated, but then what would have been the point? Life would be far too easy if I could just get everything done by reading people’s minds.

But other than the whole mind-reading thing, my life was exactly how you'd expect it to be. I wasn't spoiled, even though my parents were rich. Both of them love and care for me too much. My dad hates the idea of me being in any sort of relationship, just as any dad would be. Even though I was raised with wealth and privilege, my parents taught me to be kind and selfless. 

Most people tend to think my name, Almaria, is weird, but to me, it's just normal. I was partly named for my grandmother, but my parents still wanted my name to be my own. Dad always told me stories about my grandmother; I’ve heard them so often that it feels like I knew her without even having to meet her. 

People also tend to think I must be worse than my father, even more arrogant and selfish. 

Really, though, my dad's the most selfless person I know. He'd give up everything to keep his loved ones safe. He's always told me how I'm his number one. 

But even though the entire world knows about him being Iron Man, and even though they still think he'll come out of retirement to continue protecting the world, I can say with certainty he has no plans of doing so. Whenever the Avengers are brought up, Dad always changes the subject or outright ignores it. I don't know why, and he's never told me, but I've never pushed it. 

"Alma, sweetheart?"

I look up from my science notebook to see my mom standing in the doorway of my room with her usual bright smile. Not once in my eighteen years of life have I ever seen her compromise anything about herself for other people. Just thinking of her has always made me feel at home, even if we're miles away. 

"Yeah, Mom?"

She leaned against the doorway, gesturing in the general direction of the dining room. "Lunch is almost ready; can you go grab your dad while I finish everything?"

"Of course, Mom," I respond as I walked over to her. She wrapped her arm around mine as we walked through the long hallway together. It was just one of those things she always did. Even if it was only a small walk, she always wrapped her arm around mine. If all three of us were together, then Dad would hold Mom's hand and wrap his free arm around my shoulders. 

Once we reached the kitchen, Mom kissed my temple then walked over to finish making lunch so I could go get Dad. The distance from the kitchen to Dad's lab was a short elevator ride, but I still looked forward to it whenever I went down because it meant I got to see Dad. 

Before I even reached the elevator, the door opened, courtesy of FRIDAY. The elevator was, as always, playing jazz. Dad always tried to switch it out with what he considered "real" music, but I wouldn't stand for it. I've always preferred jazz because I can hear all the different instruments. 

Stepping out into the lab, I call out, "Thank you, FRIDAY," to which the AI responded, "Of course, Miss Stark."

I rolled my eyes at the formality, walking over to where Dad was messing around with a new suit. Even though he's retired, he still updated his suits just in case. His terrible, loud music was blasting through every speaker, preventing him from hearing me approach. I turned off his music, and Dad looked up with an expression of annoyance which quickly became a smile once he saw me. People were always saying how I look exactly like him. 

"Hey, kiddo!" He put his screwdriver down as he walked over to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pressing a kiss to my temple. "Is lunch ready?"

"Yup, Mom was just finishing it up when I came down to get you."

Mom told me there was a time when Dad wouldn't leave his lab at all and nobody could make him leave, but now he only spends a few hours at most in there. Now, he can be found either spending time with Mom or bothering me. 

We got onto the elevator and immediately, AC/DC began playing. 

"If only you liked real music," Dad teased me, "then we could enjoy this masterpiece together."

"I'll move out if you keep complaining about my music choices," I threatened, though I didn't mean it, and I never did. 

Dad rolled his eyes as the elevator doors opened and we made our way to the kitchen. As we were walking, though, the chime of the doorbell rang through the house. Dad raised his eyebrows and, turning to me, asked, "Are you expecting anyone?"

I shook my head, following him towards the front door. The only way to get through all the security here was to have the passcode, which was made to be complex, and it was one of the reasons I tended not to leave the house much.

"It's probably Rhodey; you know how he is about being respectful and ringing the doorbell first," Mom said as she joined us. 

"He has the passcode for a reason," I pointed out, knowing exactly how Uncle Rhodey was. 

Dad shrugged as he opened the door, revealing a guy with black sunglasses and suit, which immediately caused the smiles on my parents' faces to disappear. 

"Almaria Stark? You're requested at SHIELD immediately."

* * *

**ALLY BARNES**

The sky was a clear blue, the ground covered in pure white snow. Most people I know hate cold weather, but not me. 

The only problem with living in a cold area, though, is keeping your house warm. It was why I always chopped wood—that and so I could use the stove. 

It's pretty much impossible for me to be cold, but chopping wood is one of the few normal things I can do. That might sound weird or crazy to you, chopping wood to feel normal, but the only person who could ever really understand would be my father, and he doesn't even know I exist. 

See, when he was part of HYDRA, they stored some of his sperm cells, probably figuring that they could use them at some point. And obviously, they did. My mother let them use her as a test subject, and nine months later, I was born. HYDRA left us alone for the first five years of my life, for whatever reason, and my memories of her are as vivid as ever.

My mother was a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin that always made her cheeks seem bright red. She'd been a kind and compassionate person; she'd always made sure I was happy, and if I wasn't, she'd sing me a lullaby in her native German. She told me stories of how she was forced to be part of HYDRA, but she would and did do everything she could to keep me away from that world. 

For those first five years, we really thought we could stay in our little bubble forever. But on my fifth birthday, HYDRA separated us, and for the next five years, they trained me to be the perfect soldier. I was convinced that this was how the rest of my life would be until one day, I came across a file of my father, and from that day forward, I somehow convinced myself he would come back and save me. 

When I turned ten, HYDRA forced me to do the unthinkable. On that day, they gave me my worst memory. Five years later, when I was fifteen, I managed to escape and ended up in Canada. I made a new life for myself here. Even though I could have tried to find my dad, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want him to see me like this. I didn't and still don't, want him or anybody else to know about what I've done. 

Putting my hair up in a braid, I readied myself for starting the arduous process of chopping wood. Before I could even grab my ax, I got the feeling that I wasn't alone. 

A helicopter showed up when I realized that, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Without even thinking, I ran into my house and grabbed the single gun I managed to take with me when I escaped HYDRA. I wouldn't go down without a fight. 

I walked out of the house, ready to start shooting at the helicopter until a guy in a suit came out with his hands in the air. 

"Don't shoot," he said, not coming any closer as he eyed my gun warily. "I'm Alexander Fury, and I came here for you, Ally Barnes."

* * *

**MILA IVANOV-BANNER**

_Tick_ _tock_, _tick tock_, the stupid clock won't stop. 

A normal human wouldn't be able to sit and stare at a clock for hours on end, but I'm not exactly a normal human. But after watching a clock for so long, even I start to get bored, which is exactly where I am right now: completely and utterly bored out of my mind. 

Bruce was busy running tests on his new experiment, which had to do with something about duplicating DNA. It wasn't his specialty, but it was something new. He'd been trying out different branches of science ever since we moved to Mexico—I guess coming here was meant to be his fresh start.

We moved to Mexico about four years ago, after Bruce decided that living in the old Avengers Facility—now being used as a storage place for secret government items—wouldn't be the best idea. By the time we had left, everyone else had already cleared out and started new lives. The only Avengers I know personally are Bruce and Uncle Tony. 

Uncle Tony is the one who originally found me and took me in from the HYDRA base they found me in Russia. At first, it was to see what HYDRA did to me, but later on, Bruce decided to take me in. He said that it was because he knew that one day, I would be able to relate to him. For the first two years that I was with him, though, our relationship was pretty strained because a part of me blamed him for taking me away from my home. 

But now that I'm eighteen and have been with him for thirteen years, I can easily say he saved me then without even realizing it. We're a family, but our bond goes deeper than that. Bruce knows what's like to be judged for something you can't control. 

Even though he raised me for thirteen years, I can't bring myself to admit that I think of him as my father. I just feel like it would make things awkward between us, and I don't want to push him away by saying it. It sounds stupid, but it's the truth. 

"Mila, can you take a look at this data log for me?"

I hopped off the counter, rolling up my sweater sleeves to reveal two metal arms, which were a gift from Uncle Tony. Alma was the one who told him that metal arms were better than fake realistic ones and to be honest, I agree with her. Some people are kinda intimidated by me because of the metal arms, but I've gotten used to it. 

Leaning forward to read the data Bruce has recorded on the computer, I responded, "It seems pretty close, but not definite. How many tests have you run?"

"About fifteen. They're close, but not matching. Maybe I need to run more..." 

By the tired look in his eyes and the pallor to his skin, it was easy to tell that Bruce was overworking himself. I figured out a couple of years back the right times to make him take a break, and now was one of those times.

"Come on, Bruce, I think it's time to take a break," I said. 

Bruce finally looked me in the eyes and sighed in defeat, taking off his glasses.

...Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. 

We walked over to the lift that would bring us to the apartment level—Uncle Tony had bought the building, and he'd made sure to have a lab built into the basement. It was pretty much the reason we never really bothered to explore Mexico. We had all we needed right here. 

The apartment just consisted of a kitchen, a living room, and two bedrooms and bathrooms. It was small, but it worked. Neither of us wanted to live in a giant place since it was just the two of us. 

"You take a nap and I'll make dinner for us," I told Bruce once we reached the main level. 

Bruce nodded in response, taking off his lab coat to place it on a hook next to the lift. He gave my shoulder a squeeze before heading off to his bedroom. "Don't over-season the food this time," he said lightheartedly before disappearing into his room. 

I rolled my eyes, walking over to our small kitchen. I may not have been the best cook, but I was decent enough. I'm definitely better than Bruce, that's for sure. Looking at our limited options, I eventually decided on making spaghetti with peppers in it, since Bruce refused to eat vegetables unless they were already a part of the meal. 

I had already started cutting the peppers when a loud knock at the door interrupted me. For a moment, I hesitated to answer it. Neither I or Bruce knew anybody here, and it wasn't like anybody had any reason to visit us. It couldn't be Uncle Tony, because he always called in advance. 

My arms turned to knives—a feature Uncle Tony added—as I made my way cautiously towards the door. The person knocked again, which ticked me off; they'd already knocked once, and Bruce was sleeping. Opening the door, I was surprised to find a young woman in sunglasses and a suit. 

"Can I help you?" I asked, managing to keep my voice politely steady. 

"Mila Ivanov? You're to come with me," she said, the tone in her voice making it clear that _No_ wasn't an option. 

Looking behind me, my eyes landed on Bruce's closed bedroom door. I wasn't about to leave him behind, and I wasn't going to let this random stranger ruin his sleep. 

"You're going to have to make me."

* * *

**ADONIS WILSON**

Nobody can tell you if you're good or bad. It all comes down to who you are and what you do. Well, that's how it should be, anyway, but my dad always told me that I was going to do something amazing because of the good in me. 

When I was younger, I would ask my dad how I would ever top what he'd done with his life, but he always responded with, "This is your life, kiddo. I never want you to go through what I did."

Other children of superheroes might feel like they could never measure up to who their parents were and what they did, but I've always felt equal with my dad. He wasn't the type to brag about being a former superhero, though he did talk a lot about how he fought alongside Captain America. But to be fair, that's pretty brag-worthy. 

I've met Steve and Bucky along with their son Jamie, but they're the only people from the original Avengers that I've actually met. Bucky joined after the whole Thanos incident, but he was only part of the Avengers for a year before they all went their separate ways. The whole "separate" thing was really only emphasized by the fact that they all went to different parts of the world. 

Dad said it was for the right reasons, and that it was the one decision he'd never change because he ended up with me a few years afterward. He's really a big softie, which people don't usually realize at first. You don't exactly expect a war vet to be one, after all. 

"Hey, bud, you hungry? I heard about this new sandwich shop that opened downtown." 

I looked up from my homework to see Dad already wearing shoes and ready to go. Neither of us was big on cooking, so we always knew when new food places opened. 

"The one next to the Chinese place?" I asked, already putting my homework away. 

"Yup; we should grab some rice from there for tomorrow's dinner," Dad said, handing me my shoes. 

I shook my head, knowing that the rice wouldn't last until dinner. Lunch, maybe, but definitely not dinner. 

Once I had my shoes on, we made our way out of our small, one-story house. Dad locked the door as usual, and we climbed into the black truck Dad just got a few months ago because he thought the old one looked like a soccer mom car. 

As per usual, Dad started rambling about what food he was going to get, but he was cut off by a loud noise. He got out of the car, only to get back in two seconds later, and before I could ask, he was already pulling out of the driveway. 

"Why are you going so fast?" I tried looking out my window to see what made Dad decide to become a road racer, but I couldn't get a good glimpse. 

Instead of answering, Dad just went faster as the noise followed us. I tried to roll down my window only to find that it was locked. 

"...Dad, you're kind of freaking me out," I said, finally noticing his stone-cold expression. 

A car skidded in front of us then, causing Dad to suddenly brake, almost making fly forward. I almost would have if it hadn't been for my seatbelt. 

"What the actual hell, man?!" I yelled as a guy in a suit came out of the black sports car parked smack in the middle of the road. 

"Adonis, if something bad happens, you run like hell," Dad told me. 

Having a superhero for a parent, former or not, meant that I always had to assume the worst, or I might get killed. Dad opened his car door and got out, holding a finger up behind his back so only I could see. It was a signal of ours: one finger meant to wait, two meant it was safe, and three meant to run. 

For a moment, my dad and guy talked, and it wasn't until Dad held up two fingers that I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Thank God; I wasn't ready to run for my life or lose my dad. 

I got out of the car and practically ran over to Dad and the new guy.

"You must be Adonis Wilson," the guy said, removing his sunglasses. "You're going to have to come with me."

I frowned, and turning to my dad, and asked, "We're still getting lunch, right?"

* * *

**JAMIE ROGERS-BARNES**

Captain _fucking_ America: the world's greatest mystery and hero, and the father of little old Jamie Rogers. 

Jamie Rogers is a little piece of shit who thinks he's better than everybody... Well, that's a lie, but it's how I would see myself if I'd just met myself for the first time. Rather than being the hero and God's perfect angel, I'm just the guy you'd find scarfing down a dollar hot dog while walking through a crowd. 

Everybody has an area they speak of themselves in, but for me, I only speak highly of myself when I'm talking about how incredibly stupid I am. Seriously, somehow I've managed to almost fail science class every single year.

Let me just tell you that being the son of Captain America _sucks_. It's like having your father on the highest podium ever, and there's no way to surpass him because he's just _so_ great. I'm not the kind of guy who believes in saving everybody and serving justice. No, I'm the complete opposite. 

Sure, justice should be served to those who deserve it, but I'm not about to be the one doing it. I mean, why the hell would you want someone with the mentality of a three-year-old to serve justice and protect others?

After my father gave up his shield for the second time, he met my mother and they started a relationship. She later had me but died soon after. The doctors said her body couldn't handle pregnancy very well, but of course, she just had to go and be selfless just like my damn father. 

Dad took me in and cared for me as any normal father would, but by the time I was five, we both knew we'd never be alike. Maybe it was the fact that I was a selfish little asshole or maybe it was the obvious disdain I had in regards to his job. To this day, I still hate his stupid hero job. 

I grew up in his shadow, and people would always ask about _him_ instead of me. People would tell me how lucky I was to be his son, but no one ever thought about the effects it had on me. 

I know that I'm selfish and self-centered, but I've always had to watch myself so I don't end up ruining Dad's image. But as much as I resent him being Captain America, I don't resent _him_. I know I've been complaining about him this whole time, but that doesn't mean I want to end up hating him for the rest of my life. 

But one thing I do know is that I'll never be like him. 

"Jamie, you up for a game of basketball?" Bucky yelled through the house, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

"Only if you don't suck this time," I yelled back, getting a laugh from Bucky in response. He poked his head into my bedroom, holding a basketball in his metal hand. 

"I only act like I suck so you can get better," he said, at which I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that he just sucked. 

Being Captain America's son might have its disadvantages, but it did come with living with Bucky Barnes, so that was a definite upside. 

Bucky is really the only person who gets what it's like to be in Dad's shadow and how I feel, while Dad just thinks I'm being difficult. It was always him who diffused our arguments, who stepped in and made me feel better just by being there. 

"If you're not on the court in three minutes, I'm starting without you," Bucky threatened.

"You can't play by yourself," I pointed out, but Bucky just ignored me and walked away. I pushed myself off my bed and pulled on a pair of shorts as well as some running shoes. 

As I walked towards the front door, I noticed Dad at the table with the morning newspaper - I swear, he's the only person I know who actually reads from the _physical newspaper_. 

For a second, I considered striking up a conversation with him, but decided against it and continued on to the front door. 

"Hey, Jamie." 

I stopped in my tracks at the greeting, surprised that he bothered. I turned to find him looking at me with a small smile. 

"Go easy on Buck, he's pretty ancient," he said jokingly. 

I nodded, then added, "Well, hey, so are you," before darting out the front door, though I could hear him chuckle as he went back to reading his newspaper. 

Bucky, meanwhile, had the basketball at his feet as he was pulling his hair up into a ponytail. He only ever cut his hair once or twice a year, always letting it grow long. Dad says it's because it makes him feel young, even though they're both 120. 

I grab the basketball, throwing it into the hoop. Bucky groaned, knowing he was going to lose yet again.

We played for about half an hour until a black sports car pulled up, stopping us both in our tracks. Bucky turned to me, a questioning look on his face. I just shook my head at him; who would I even have over, anyways?

Dad walked out of the house with the newspaper in one hand and two water bottles in the other, but the second he saw the car his expression went from calm to dead serious. 

I looked back over at the car only to see a girl in a black suit and professional-looking sunglasses, instantly making me think that she must be here to eliminate either me or Dad. Probably Dad, since he's such a national treasure. 

Looking straight at me, the girl asked, "Are you Jamie Rogers?"

"Who's asking?" I responded, regarding her warily. 

"Rylee Barton. You need to come with me."

* * *

**PIPER & WALLACE MAXIMOFF**

What do you call two people with supernatural abilities trying to set up a porch swing? The insane Maximoff twins. 

Wallace was laying on the ground, reading the instructions, while Piper ran around grabbing all the materials they needed. 

"Piper, I swear to God if you keep running circles around me, I will not refrain from using my power's on you," Wallace threatened his sister, glaring at her as she ran around him. 

"Wally, you barely know how to use your powers," Piper pointed out. "Even if you could, you don't scare me; only Mama does." 

Both Wallace and Piper were afraid of what their mother could do to them. Piper insisted that Wanda would bury them six feet under if this porch swing didn't turn out correctly. They would have had their father do it, but he was just as clueless as they were when it came to these sorts of things. 

"Will you please just read through these instructions? I can't read as fast as you," Wallace said, ignoring what his sister just said. Piper took the instruction manual from him and began to read, spitting out the directions to her brother. 

Most would say that Piper controls Wallace, but she listened and followed after him more than people noticed. Although he was younger by twelve minutes, she still followed what he said since he was usually the one to think things through. 

Piper, on the other hand, was much more optimistic and energetic but tended to be quiet around new people. She took after their mother in that, unlike Wallace, who took more after Vision. 

"Can you go any slower?" Piper complained. He might have been going at a normal pace, but to her, it was _slow_. 

Wallace glared at her, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "Why don't you do it yourself? It'd get done faster if you did it."

That was all it took for Piper to take off and start building the porch swing. They'd both put their money together to buy it because they thought it would be a good gift for their mother. Piper easily finished the porch swing as Wallace sat back and allowed her to do it. 

"Are you both done out there?" a new voice called from inside the house. Wallace opened his eyes to find a very much human Vision staring down at him. "Are you making your sister do everything?" he asked, raising an (imaginary) eyebrow at his son. 

Piper stopped working and moved over towards Vision and Wallace. "Hi, Papa; look at how nice the swing looks."

"It looks amazing—you did a great job," he responded, which earned a smile from Piper while Wallace rolled his eyes. 

Before Wallace could even think to argue, a car pulled into their driveway. 

Piper raised an eyebrow, saying, "Did Mama get a new car?"

The car in question was a black Range Rover. Only one person was inside, and it definitely wasn't Wanda.

"Go inside," Vision told them immediately, already moving to protect them. 

Neither of the twins tried to argue, heading into the house as he'd instructed them—but of course, that didn't stop them from peeking through the front windows. 

Another car pulled into the driveway, though this time it was Wanda, and both Wallace and Piper noticed that she didn't look all that happy. Her usual smile was gone, replaced with a stone cold expression, sending a chill down the twins' spines. An angry Wanda Maximoff was not somebody they ever wanted to face. 

A young woman in a suit walked away from Vision, moving towards the front door, clearly intending to speak to them. Wanda, of course, didn't allow her to. 

"You better stop where you are; they're not joining your little group," Wanda said, a threatening tone in her voice as red energy gathered in her hands. 

Wallace turned to Piper, who, as always, already knew what he was thinking. Together, they walked back out to the porch, with Wallace gathering his own form of magical energy, ready to stop whoever this woman thought she was. 

"Piper and Wallace Maximoff? I'm Rylee Barton, and you're both needed at SHIELD."

Wallace and Piper shared a look, an unspoken conversation passing between them before Wallace stepped in front of his sister. 

"We refuse."

* * *

**HL**Í**N LOKIDÓTTIR**

Home isn't a place, but the people. My home just happens to be wherever my father or uncle is because they're the only family I have. As a result, I live with a foot in both Asgard and Midgard. 

Uncle Thor lives on Midgard along with Aunt Sif and their three troublemakers, living in Oslo, Norway in a castle that Uncle Thor insists is small, even though it has fifteen rooms. They originally lived here on Asgard but moved to Midgard after marrying. Uncle Thor still had no real desire to be king of Asgard, and just wanted to spend his life with Sif.

A few years later, Sif was pregnant with triplets; Father and I had them stay in Asgard throughout the pregnancy. Neither of us trusted Midgardian technology with Asgardian babies. She ended up giving birth to two girls and one boy: Frinna and Endora Thorsdóttir, and Kai Thorson. All three were born healthy, and they're just about the happiest three-year-olds I know. 

I'm often in Norway with Uncle Thor and Aunt Sif, mostly helping Sif out with the triplets. Over the years, she became another mother figure to me, ever since my own mother died when I was five.

Everybody thought that no one would ever want to be with my father after everything he'd done, but clearly they didn't know my mother. She saw the good in him and believed wholeheartedly that he was—and is—a good man at heart. She became pregnant with me before they got married, and so they put off the wedding until I was born. 

My father was a different person when he and my mother were together. He always said she was the great heart of not only our family, but of Asgard as well. Some called my mother a miracle worker, while others suggested that she was using my father for her own gain, which is entirely outlandish. My mother was a humble and kind woman, even after becoming queen of Asgard. Needless to say, she was an amazing person. 

My parents truly did love each other, and my mother was never once ashamed of my father's past. She was loyal to him in everything, even as people were against him being king in Thor's stead; even as people insisted he was an awful person. When I was born, they were ecstatic. Between both of my parents, I was closest to my mother. She was always there to play games with me or even simply listen, while Father taught me how to use my magic as well as some other things. 

But when Mother died...it was a tragic day for everyone. Neither Father nor I knew what to do without her. She was our family's heart, the star we orbited around. If anything, though, her death brought Father and me closer. Along with Uncle Thor and Aunt Sif, we only have each other now. 

I wish I could say that I'm over my mother's death, but that would be a lie. She was essentially my best friend growing up, and she knew what it was like to be judged from Father's past. He’s long since owned up to what he's done, and I've never judged him for it, but I know there are others who still do, even after so long. 

"Love?" Father's voice echoed through the palace hallways, pulling me out of my thoughts. As I headed towards his voice, I couldn't help but notice how long my dress was.

Most of my Asgardian attire is a mix of dress and armor, but still, the length would be a problem when it came to dealing with invaders. Father always said I worried too much about danger, citing the fact that the last invasion was ten years ago, but I still worried. It was my job, after all, to worry about Asgard. My future job, anyways.

I looked out into the hallway and saw Father at the end, a box in his hands and a rare smile on his face. It was rare to see him smiling outside of the palace, but when it was just the two of us, he was quite the opposite. 

"Father, what is that?" I asked as I headed towards him, my dress trailing on the ground. 

I took his arm when he held it out as he led us out to the gardens, stopping as we reached a bench. 

"A gift, of course," Father said, handing the box over to me as we sat down. 

I couldn't help but roll my eyes; he'd always doted on my mother and I. I didn't bother trying to stop him, though. I couldn't bring myself to deny him this one thing. 

The box was all black, decorated with gold specks. It was simple, yet beautiful. It almost looked like something that my mother would have chosen. I carefully opened it, not wanting to damage whatever was inside.

Looking inside, I saw a diamond necklace paired with a gold chain. The diamond was inlaid in the middle of a small sun, which was surrounded by a pendant that, upon closer inspection, was actually an ouroboros that looked suspiciously like Jörmungandr. 

For a moment, I couldn't say anything, unable to take my eyes off of the necklace. 

"It was your mother's," Father said, saving me from having to say anything. "I found it earlier and thought it would be fitting that you should have it."

My eyes clouded over with tears, and though I tried to hold them back, I couldn't stop some from escaping.

"Why do you always make me cry before I leave?" I asked with a wet laugh. 

"I'm sorry, love; I just wanted to give you the necklace before you left for Midgard," Father said, securing the necklace around my neck, an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face. 

"I should get going; Aunt Sif will be angry if I miss dinner."

Father nodded, knowing from experience how Aunt Sif was. "Stay safe, love. Send your aunt and uncle my regards."

We both stood, Father pulling me into a hug. But before I could take a single step towards where Heimdall was, he strode into the garden with a look of urgency. He bowed in greeting before turning to me. "Princess, I'm afraid you've been summoned to Midgard, but not by your uncle—by SHIELD. They say it's urgent."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering just what the hell SHIELD would want with me after all the trouble my father caused them.

"Somebody's going to have to alert Uncle Thor and Aunt Sif, then. I'm supposed to babysit tomorrow."

* * *

**JUNE ROMANOFF**

The sun shone on Mom's hair, making it look even more red than usual. She was busy filling up buckets so we could clean our old SUV, which I think that we should have traded in ages ago, but Mom always insisted on keeping it. 

Both of us were in our oldest clothing, ready to clean the car inside and out. Mom's iconic red hair was up in a high ponytail while my own black hair was left in a messy bun. Cleaning the car was a way for us to bond since it was just the two of us. 

Mom has always said that I'm her little miracle. After she gave up the whole superhero/agent life, she moved to Russia, and later met my father. They never married, but they did care for each other, and they moved back to New York City together. Neither of them wanted to get married, and Mom had made her peace with being infertile. Fortunately, my dad never cared about whether or not they had children; he always loved Mom for everything she was even with everything she wasn't. 

After three and a half years of being together, they adopted me. Although Mom was never big on the idea of being a mother, especially considering her past and what she'd had to do to survive, but when they adopted me...

Well, Mom said that in the first few months, she'd been afraid of ruining me somehow. Eventually, though, she realized it wasn't her past that dictated whether she'd be a bad mother or not; it had been herself who told herself that.

I was only a baby when they adopted me, and my parents named me June Miracol Romanova, _miracol_ meaning miracle in Russian. I never got to know my father, though, since he died when I was only one. 

Even though I'm not related to either of my parents by blood, Mom always tells me that I look more like my dad, while the only thing I got from her was my facial structure. When people ask me about Mom, I easily tell them that she was a hero and still is to me. She raised me all on her own and never once allowed my life to be put in danger. 

"Could you get out of your daydream and help me with these buckets?" Mom said, at which I rolled my eyes as I walked over to her. 

As I was bending down to grab one of the buckets, a high power spray hit my side, drenching me from head to toe. I looked up at Mom in surprise as she laughed away. 

"I still have the hose," she taunted before spraying me again, which of course hit my face perfectly. 

Before I could yell at her, a car pulled up. Mom turned the hose off, walking up to the black Range Rover. Instead of staying where I was, I followed after Mom, though I was careful to stay behind her. 

"Can I help you?" Mom said to the guy in the car, her tone cold and stiff. 

The guy smiled and responded, "I'm Alexander Fury, and your daughter June Romanova is requested at SHIELD." 

...Well, that definitely wasn't what I was expecting. "...I am confusion." 

* * *

**MAYLENE PARKER**

London is rainy and gloomy, but after living there for a while, you get used to it. 

My parents moved to London as a way to leave Dad's dangerous life - nobody knows Spiderman's identity, and while some people might have their suspicions, they doubted anybody in London would suspect that the 37-year-old Peter Parker was once Spiderman. 

I grew up knowing about my powers, so I was able to control them much better than Dad ever did when he first got them. Mom always teases Dad about this, which just leads to both of them mocking each other. 

But every day, I'm thankful that even after becoming parents at such a young age, they both still deeply cared for each other and for me. I know that I'm fortunate to have such a loving family, and I never let myself forget it. 

The worst thing about being Peter Parker's daughter, though, is having inherited his awkwardness and awful lying skills. All my looks came from Mom, but my personality is all Dad's. My smarts and wit are all mine, though I guess technically I got my intelligence from both of my parents, which is fortunate because they're the smartest people I know.

Dad always tells me that I'm just like his Aunt May. I never got to meet her, but from what Dad's told me of her, she was an amazing and selfless woman. Dad would tell me stories of how even when Aunt May was sick, she still took care of my mom when she was pregnant with me and was incredibly supportive even though my parents were so young when it happened. 

Growing up in London, you'd probably expect me to have a British accent. My accent is mostly British, but my parents never lost their Queens accents, so my accent has become this weird mix of British and Queens. 

"Honey?" Dad's voice echoed through the open-spaced apartment. 

A smile grew on my face as I ran through the apartment just to see Mom, who'd been gone all week on some business trip for her job. 

I found her standing in the living room with Dad bringing in her bags, and the moment our eyes met we both ran forward, hugging each other as tightly as possible. 

"I've missed you so much, baby; you look even more gorgeous than I remember," Mom said as she kissed my cheeks. 

"Never leave again, the apartment is too empty without you," I responded, tightening my hug. 

Dad laughed as he walked over to us, wrapping his arms around us. "Look at our beautiful daughter, Michelle." 

Eventually, we pulled apart from our group hug to bring Mom's bags to the bedroom—well, Dad carried all of her bags while Mom and I just gave him company as we talked about what we should have for dinner. 

"We should have tacos," Dad suggested, which only got him two groans in response.

“We should have a homemade chicken alfredo dinner," Mom countered. 

I nodded in agreement with Mom, mostly because I loved her chicken alfredo and it was the perfect dinner for her being back home. 

A loud knock sounded on the door, startling all of us. I headed towards the front door to check who it was while my parents continued arguing about whether we should have tacos or pasta for dinner. 

I hummed some random song as I walked over to the door, and as usual, there was a small skip in my step.

Before the person could knock again, I pulled open the door and greeted them with a cheerful, "Hello! What can I do for you?"

"Maylene Parker? I'm Alexander Fury. You need to come with me." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all the kids meet each other, Alexander Fury is ever the hopeful optimist, and Jamie Rogers-Barnes is adamant that they will not, quote-unquote, "become the fucking Breakfast Club."

On a small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is a very large building that serves as SHIELD's headquarters. Out of the many changes to the original building, the biggest one was its practicality. Though SHIELD had collapsed in 2014 after all its secrets were released to the public and had remained so in the following years, now a new SHIELD had been created out of its ruins by Alexander Fury and Rylee Barton. 

The building was currently full of countless agents either training or teaching, and even more were out on missions. SHIELD had chosen to stay hidden this time around in an attempt to prevent more threats from harming the world because of its known presence. Alexander Fury refused to SHIELD fail; he took it upon himself to save everybody he could. 

Meanwhile, inside the building was a certain conference room that held ten extremely different people, all sitting around a meeting table. None of these ten people know why they were called here, but unbeknownst to them, there was a specific reason for each of them. 

In fact, this group of people was different than anybody else their age: they were the children of superheroes, and most of them had inherited their parents' powers and abilities. They all had more in common with each other than any of them or anyone else realized. 

Alexander walked into the room with his head held high, Rylee right behind him. Every other SHIELD agent thought they were in over their heads with this project, believing that the group of people they'd chosen would never be able to work together. 

What mattered, though, was that Alexander and Rylee believed that these kids _could_ work together, and somehow, that had to be enough. If no one else was going to believe in this project, then goddamn it, _they would_. 

"There was an idea to put together a group of remarkable people," Alex started, launching straight into his speech. "I want to bring back that group so we can continue protecting those who can't protect themselves. You ten are those so-called 'remarkables,' and you deserve a shot at finishing what your parents started."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence as Alex's words sunk in. After a few seconds, though, Jamie Rogers-Barnes couldn't help but let out a loud, boisterous laugh. The whole idea was just ridiculous to him. 

"You think this is funny?" Rylee said, a threatening note in her voice as she glared at the boy. Though even she was skeptical about how this whole thing would work out, she wouldn't let Alex down by allowing it to fail. 

"I'm sorry; this is just the funniest fucking thing that's happened to me all year. You think we're cut out to basically just be our parents?" Jamie responded, still breathless from laughter. 

"Obviously, _you're_ not; not with that foul mouth. Didn't your father ever teach you about watching your language?" Alma retorted acerbically. 

"You have quite the attitude," Jamie remarked with a smirk directed the girl's way. "Something the matter, Ms. Stark?"

"Um...actually, I'm really confused; why are we all here?" June piped up, her brow furrowed in thought. 

Jamie turned to her with a raised brow and a look of disdain on his face. "Isn't it obvious? They want us to be our parents." His voice dripped with contempt, and it was clear he wanted nothing to do with whatever the hell Alex and Rylee were trying to do. Looking pointedly over at Hlín, he added, "Well...not _all_ of us." 

Anger flashed across the princess' face, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. She was well aware Jamie was just trying to get a rise out of her. She wouldn't give him the damn satisfaction of twisting her actions to make it seem like she was just like her father. 

What was unexpected, though, was Mila jumping to her defense. 

"It's not like we get to choose our parents. Their mistakes aren't ours," Mila insisted, glaring at Jamie. "Besides, I doubt _any_ of us here can claim our parents are so picture-perfect." She cast her gaze around the room, daring everybody to refute her statement. 

"Do we _have_ to join?" Adonis asked, hoping to change the subject and ease the tension in the room. 

Alex sighed, his hope for the project dwindling. Rylee, however, was having nobody's shit. She and Alex were the only two people who believed in this, and she'd be damned if she was going to end up being the only person leading it. 

"We're giving you an opportunity to show the public who _you_ are; that you're not who your parents were," Rylee responded, her gaze subtly going to Hlín. "This is your chance to be part of a team that not only saves and protects people, but gives them hope. People need a reason to believe they're safe. They need something to put their hope in, and you all will be that something."

"What if we don't want to be heroes? What if we just want to be left alone? None of us are cut out to handle that kind of pressure, and none of us is anything like our parents," Ally ranted. "_They're _the heroes; _they_ chose to go into retirement. Why not bring them out of it? Why should _we_ do _their _jobs?"

The room once again fell silent, Ally's words sinking into everybody's minds—that is, until a soft voice broke the silence. 

"Where do I sign up?" 

Everybody turned to look at Piper Maximoff in surprise, all of them questioning why she would agree so readily. 

Unlike everyone else, though, Piper saw the good in doing this. She wanted to honor her late uncle, especially since he gave up his life being a hero. She wouldn't let his memory die in vain.

Alex gave Rylee a small, hopeful smile. At least one person saw where they were coming from. He slid a folder over to her, but before she could open it, her brother's hand stopped her. 

"Are you really doing this, Piper?" Wallace asked quietly. His sister had always been the one to jump into things headfirst—he just didn't want her making a mistake. The second she gave him a nod, though, he let go of the folder and looked Alex dead in the eyes. "I'll be needing one of those folders, too, then."

The other eight, on the other hand, remained silent. None of them really knew what it took to be a superhero, let alone an Avenger. 

Maylene Parker glanced around the room before letting her eyes land on Alex and Rylee. Without even thinking, she beckoned for Alex to hand her a folder.

"I really hope that food is involved. You guys came over at a bad time," Maylene said, not even bothering to read the papers. If Piper Maximoff was signing this, well...she trusted the other girl's judgment. 

"Don't sign it," Alma warned, not entirely trusting Alex's and Rylee's intentions. 

Both Maylene and the twins looked up at her in confusion. Alma ignored their looks and grabbed a folder for herself, looking through the papers until she found the exact problem circling around in Rylee's brain. 

"They want to run experiments on us. You're both up here talking about keeping people safe, but what about us? Why should your people be allowed to look into our brains? Also, your food is like prison food and I'm not dealing with that." 

"Glad to see your powers actually work," Alex said with a smile. "We added that to test Alma specifically, so don't worry, we're not doing scientific tests on any of you. As for the food issue, we're currently working on it."

Jamie rolled his eyes, though June quickly snapped at him with, "Oh, calm down, America; welcome to the new world where girls can be smarter than you." 

"I'll take one of those folders as long as somebody gets some good food in this place," Adonis piped up. "I, for one, am starving."

"Oh, big mood," June replied, almost automatically.

A knowing look passed between Alex and Rylee; at least they could work with only six people if the others didn't sign up. 

"I'll take one, but before I even sign anything, I'm letting you all know that we're not gonna become the fucking Breakfast Club," Jamie declared. 

"Uh, the Breakfast Club only has five people," June pointed out. "And we're signing up to save the world, not spend a Saturday together."

"You're totally Andrew. You have that whole damaged kid act because your dad's 'too hard' on you," Maylene teased him, getting a laugh out of everybody. 

Hlín, meanwhile, was still reluctant about joining. She glanced over at Mila and Ally, who both had the same stone-cold expression, not bothering to join the conversation. She could easily tell how both girls saw themselves. She'd seen the look on their faces before: it was the exact expression her father used to have when people reminded him of his past mistakes. It showed up less often these days, but on occasion it still did. 

As much as Hlín didn't want to join, she knew that she had to. If not for the world or for her own personal reasons, then to prove to Mila and Ally that they weren't the monsters they thought they were.

"I'll join if you two do," Hlín told them, trying to seem friendly so they wouldn't distrust her right off the bat. 

"...What would you do that for?" Mila asked, mostly curious about what Hlín's response would be. 

Hlín paused for a moment, formulating a response. It wouldn't be easy to convince them, she knew. But after all, words were a specialty of hers. Her father wasn't called Silvertongue for nothing. "I won't feed you some garbage about how this is the right thing to do," she eventually said. "But I will say this: it's a way to prove that we belong wherever the hell we want. Even if you don't do it for the world, at least do it to spite the people who think we can't be heroes."

Ally raised an eyebrow at Hlín before glancing over at Alex, whose expression clearly reflected his unspoken question of if they would join.

He knew that among these ten people, Ally, Hlín, and Mila would be the most reluctant to join. But he also knew that they deserved to be here just as much as anybody else did. Hlín was right, after all: there would always be people who may never see them as Avengers, the Asgardian princess especially. If anything, joining meant they could prove those people wrong. 

"Three folders and I expect that food issue to be fixed," Hlín ordered, her regal tone seeping into her voice out of habit. "I'm not leaving the comfort of Asgard to eat garbage food from a high-profile company." 

"Look at that, mini agents; you were able to get us all signed up for this group that'll inevitably fail," Jamie said sarcastically. 

"Are we allowed to start negotiating? What the hell is up with these five hours of training and having to live together?" Adonis complained, already dreading the idea of having to deal with Jamie on a 24/7 basis. 

"Unfortunately, no!" Alex responded cheerfully. "In addition to you joining the new league of Avengers, you'll also be living together, participating in group activities, and training together. You guys are going to be a team, and what better way to teach you to work as one than to have you all living together?"

A collective groan rose from the group as they all immediately regretted signing. 

"C'mon, man, that place is ancient! And what am I supposed to do without my mom? She's the one who cooks all my meals!" Maylene cried out. 

"Does it even have working WiFi?" June asked. 

"Is it just going to be us? Because if it is, I can't promise that _he__'ll _be alive by the end of day one," Mila said, glaring at Jamie who simply laughed off her threat with a careless smile. 

"Father isn't going to like this," Hlín muttered to herself, wincing as she thought of what his reaction would be to this situation. He might have been a..._reformed_ villain by SHIELD's standard, but she knew he still held the Avengers in low regard, to put it lightly. She couldn't imagine how he would react to his own daughter _being_ an Avenger, let alone having actually _considered_ it. 

"Do you know how hard it's gonna be to move my entire library here?" Alma complained, already stressing about leaving her personal library behind. She couldn't just take a few books; that would be _insane_. 

Hlín's head whipped over to look at Alma, obviously excited despite trying not to look it. "How many books do you have?!"

Alma couldn't help but laugh at the princess's reaction. The number of books she had was frankly outrageous, and seeing Hlín's reaction was...refreshing. It was amusing to find out that the Asgardian crown princess was a huge bookworm. 

"Could we get back to the real issue? How do you expect us to live together? Those two could kill each other at any moment!" Adonis pointed out, gesturing towards Mila and Jamie, who were currently glaring daggers at each other.

"How many bathrooms does this place have?" Ally butted in. All she wanted was some privacy for a change. 

"Oh my God, Ally, you can't just ask how many bathrooms a building has," June joked, getting a laugh out of Adonis and Maylene. 

Ally rolled her eyes at the reference, already tired of the idea of having to work together. She'd always been alone and she wanted it to stay that way. 

"Actually, can we talk about food now? It's been a hot minute since I last ate," Adonis complained, just wanting the meeting the end so he could eat. 

As everyone's questions overlapped, Rylee turned to Alex and said, "Looks like your dream is coming true. You're gonna change the world with these kids."

"That was the plan," Alex whispered back with a conspiratorial grin, glancing over at their new team of Avengers. As much as they disliked each other now, he knew that in time, they would come to work together as an actual team. 

Watching everybody talk over each other, Piper couldn't help but remember a thing her mother said the captain would say before every mission. 

"Avengers...," she started, though she was quickly cut off by a certain foul-mouthed teen.

"Oh _fuck_ no!"


End file.
